


Ho Ho Mistletoe

by melagan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, SGA Secret Santa Fic Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:01:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28019697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melagan/pseuds/melagan
Summary: Who is Rodney planning to kiss under the mistletoe? John won't rest until he finds out!
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Comments: 22
Kudos: 66
Collections: SGA Secret Santa 2020





	Ho Ho Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StarbucksSue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarbucksSue/gifts).



> Written for SGA secret Santa 2020

"Mistletoe, Rodney?" John pointed up at the mistletoe hanging down from every light fixture in the room. 

"Not my idea, Sheppard. It's that crazy Czech's. He's been hanging it everywhere." Rodney leaned back in his chair and grinned. "Better watch out. He's been puckering up all day in practice. I'm not sure if he cares who he puts a lip-lock on. Radek's a desperate man."

John reached up and plucked a sprig of the stuff off the wall. The idea of Colonel Caldwell allowing crates of this stuff to be loaded onto the Daedalus was mind-boggling. "How the heck did he even get this much?"

"It's not from Earth," Rodney said over his shoulder, too busy typing to look up. "It's some Pegasus variant according to the botanists.

"You're pulling my leg. Pegasus has mistletoe?" John hitched one hip onto the corner of Rodney's desk and leaned over to see what he was working on. "There's just something creepy about a galaxy with both Wraith and mistletoe in it. I wonder…."

Rodney threw a pen at him. "Stop thinking about it."

"What?" asked John, feigning innocence.

"You're wondering if the Wraith kiss with their feeding hands and if they do, what kind of hickey does it leave." 

Damn. When had Rodney learned to read him so well? "Am not," John pouted. "Hey, what's the list for?"

"List?" Rodney's hands froze over the keyboard. "Um, nothing?"

"Jesus Rodney, you're making a kissing list, aren’t you? Exactly who are you planning to catch under the mistletoe? Aw, c'mon," John whined, "let me see."

Rodney snapped his laptop shut. "Make your own list, Sheppard. You do not get to bogart mine."

Fine, he’d make his own kiss list. After treating Rodney to a shrug, John got up and left. Bastard. He’d show him. His list would put Rodney’s to shame. No doubt McKay would keep his list to perky blond women. Well, John would show him!

He wasn’t sure if Rodney would pick from both the military and science departments. To be on the safe side, he’d better include both. He didn’t need to keep it to women either thanks to the IOA. Since the expedition had an international crew, it was a change in rules the IOA had insisted on. 

After some deliberation, he wrote down both Teyla and Ronon as maybes. Teyla would roll her eyes but would be a good sport about it—if he were lucky. He thought for a minute and then crossed her name out. 

Ronon already had a line of people queuing up anytime he stood under a branch of the stuff. Then again, he only kissed women. The men had given up fast when Ronon raised his blaster. John crossed his name out.

Kate Heightmeyer, she was definitely a maybe. John wrote her name down. Oh-oh. If he kissed her under the mistletoe, would she make him talk about it later? He crossed her name off the list. 

Damn it. He’d been working on his kiss list for over an hour and still had zilch. There was only one solution. He needed to get a look at Rodney’s list and make a copy. 

Son-of-a-bitch. What if Rodney had dozens of names? If he knew John was compiling his own list it was a sure bet that he’d added more. Competitive jerk. With a growl, John jumped up and began pacing his room. 

Somehow, he had to lure Rodney away from his laptop long enough to get a look at it. But how? 

It took a day and a half to come up with a plan. Meanwhile, more mistletoe showed up. So far, Elizabeth had kept it out of the gate room. Knowing Zelenka, it was only a matter of time until the Stargate was decorated like a giant wreath. 

"What are you doing?"

"Rodney. Where did you come from?"

Rodney pointed back over his shoulder. "The lab. So, what's with the Stargate? You've been staring at it for the last two minutes. Is something wrong with it?"

"No. I was just—you know, it's nothing. Hey, I missed lunch. Do you want to join me?" John reached for Rodney's laptop. "Let me carry that for you." 

Rodney narrowed his eyes. "I don't think so, Sheppard. You're being weird, you know that, right?"

Crap. He'd blown it. Rodney was never going to handover his laptop now. Fine. The day wasn't over yet. After all, McKay had to sleep sometime. All John had to do was sneak into his room and copy the file he needed. Piece of cake.

They walked into the mess together, bumping shoulder on the way. Rodney headed for the coffee while John grabbed their usual spot. 

"Turkey sandwich?" Rodney grinned. He'd brought over not just coffee, but two sandwiches and a couple of pudding cups. "No guarantee it tastes like Earth turkey so don't get your hopes up."

"Gimme that." Taking a big bite, John sank his teeth in and moaned in pleasure. Turkey or not-turkey, it was a damn good sandwich.

Busy licking his fingers, he almost didn't notice how quiet Rodney had grown until he looked up. "McKay? You okay?"

"Fine," Rodney squeaked. Clearing his throat, he repeated more normally. "Fine. I was merely temporarily distracted by your—"

"By, my what?" John asked, sucking the last of the mayo off his thumb.

Rodney avoided John's eyes and seemed to be fascinated by his own sandwich. "Uh, never mind."

"Radek's really going to town with that mistletoe. Has he caught Elizabeth standing under it yet?" John edged his chair closer. If he could get Rodney talking, he might reveal who was on his list.

"Somehow, he's managed to keep up with his work otherwise I'd put a stop to it." Rodney paused. "I think he's convinced Ronon to join him in his mad scheme. As for Elizabeth, are you sure you want to know?"

"Eh, not really. Between you and me, I think Elizabeth likes the attention. She keeps making the point that it's good for morale every time I mention putting a stop to it." With false casualness, he added, "How's that kiss list coming?" John took a big sip of his coffee and watched Rodney over the rim of his mug. 

"Thinking of poaching, Sheppard? I don't think so. Make your own—you are! You're making your own list and you want to poach mine for suggestions! Forget it."

He stood up to leave. John reached out. "Easy there, buddy. Would it be so bad to collaborate?"

"Collaborate?" 

"Look, I know it's a stupid tradition. Neither of us are about to go around planting a lip-lock on anyone that doesn't want us to. And, that's where I'm a little stuck." 

"Ah. Because of your position as CO of the military. You don't want anyone to feel forced to comply. Hm. Yes, I can see where you'd think it could be a problem." 

Finally, Rodney understood. Now—for that list. John couldn’t keep from reaching out for the laptop.

Rodney moved it out of reach and glared. "No dice. Because you're an idiot. Anyone would want to kiss you given the chance. Just look at yourself. Some of us—quite unfairly I might add—have to work a little harder to have our less obvious charms noticed." Rodney stood and tucked his laptop under his arm. "Get your own list, Sheppard. I have work to do."

John watched Rodney walk away, feeling like he just had the air kicked out of him. So close. Ah, well. It was official. Operation Break into Rodney's Room was a go.

"Colonel Sheppard? Sorry to disturb you, but I could use your help."

"Hm? What is it, Radek?" John put aside his game plan for tonight's break-in for the moment. "Need me to light something up?"

"Perhaps, you should be asking Rodney that," Radek muttered, almost too low for John to hear. 

"What?" John asked, baffled. 

"Ah, I have mistletoe I wish to put near next to the crew quarters. I have run into reluctance with some of your Marines. Perhaps you could intercede?"

"You mean you're too afraid to ask them yourself." John sighed. "Look, I can't get involved in this. If you're hell-bent on doing this anyway, I suggest you go ask Ronon for help."

"Oh. Very well." Radek pulled a piece of non-mistletoe from the burlap bag he was carrying. In a sneaky move that would have done Doug Flute proud, he stuck a sprig of the stuff into John's shirt pocket. "For luck."

John didn't have the heart to shove it back at him. At least Radek hadn't tried to kiss him. "Thanks, doc." 

Radek bobbed his head, and with a quiet, "You're welcome," went running off. Presumably to find Ronon. John didn't know and didn't want to know. Now then, back to his plan.

Dressed all in black, John stood outside Rodney's door. The illuminated dial on his watch read three a.m. Rodney should be solidly asleep by now. He covered up the face of his watch with his wristband, opened the door, and stealthily crept into the room.

Rodney slept on, dead to the world and John's presence. Sweet. Using his night vision goggles. John quietly stepped over to the desk and opened Rodney's laptop. 

Smiling, he typed in Rodney's password. McKay had been so sure he wouldn't remember…. Ha! Take that, Mr. Super Scientist! There, bold as you please was the file he needed. With one click it opened—onto pages and pages of binary code.

Annoyed but hardly surprised, he’d known Rodney long enough to know there was no taking the geek out of the scientist. John began poking around for a quick and dirty code-to-text program. Without it, finding the names in that list was going to take hours. Long, boring hours. 

God-damn, Rodney must have hidden it, the suspicious bastard. A large snore halted John's hand. Crap. Time to leave. The last thing he needed was to have Rodney wake up and find him here. 

He copied the file and, as carefully as he'd entered, John backtracked, leaving everything on the computer the way he'd found it. With a frustrated if quiet sigh, he tiptoed out of the room. He'd have to wait until he got back to his room to convert the file.

But, once back in his room, the bed looked too inviting to ignore. He had a choice. Mess with the computer now or try to get his hands on Rodney's laptop later. John yawned and rubbed his eyes. Sleep it was.

Putting phase II into action, John dropped by Rodney's room the next morning to greet him with a cheery smile and a mug of hot coffee.

"Sheppard?" Rodney sat up in bed, the sheets pooling around his waist. Blearily, he asked, "What's wrong? Why are you here?"

John noticed his questions didn't stop Rodney from reaching for the coffee. "It's a beautiful day, McKay. Can't I just come by and say good morning?"

"No." Rodney finished his coffee and passed his mug back to John. "What are you up to?"

"You're breaking my heart here, McKay. I can't believe you'd think I was up to something." Damn. His chances of getting another look at the laptop while Rodney was in the bathroom were fading fast.

Rodney's eyebrows climbed higher. "Right. Just let me get my pants on before I list all the reasons why your hokey innocent act isn't going to work."

"Moi?" John mockingly pointed to his own chest and coquettishly fluttered his eyelashes. He expected Rodney to sputter and throw the pillow at him. Instead, Rodney's eyes grew round and he got very quiet. 

Suddenly, Rodney blurted out, "I wore eyeliner once. Back in my teens. Have you ever…?

"God, Rodney! No! What the hell are you thinking?"

"It's just—you have really pretty eyes and—oh, god." Rodney buried his face in his hands. "Can we just forget I said any of that? Clearly, I need more than one measly cup of coffee to start the day."

"It's all right, buddy. There's more in the mess." John's hand hovered over Rodney's bare shoulder. It began to sink in that a lot more of Rodney than his shoulder was bare. "Are you sleeping in the raw?"

Nervously, Rodney tucked the sheet closer. "Yes. Not that it's any of your business."

It wasn't. It really really wasn't. But now that the image was in his head, it became the only thing John could think about. Slowly, he backed towards the door. "I'll…." Damn, where were words when you needed them? "You and… in the meet breakfast us." 

"Meet you in the mess for breakfast?" Rodney untangled for him. "Fifteen minutes?"

John nodded; mouth too dry to speak. Naked Rodney. Naked Rodney wearing eyeliner. Plus, Rodney thought he had pretty eyes. Shit. He had to get out of here. 

As he hoofed it down the hallway John reminded himself that a strategic retreat could be considered a sound battle tactic.

By the time Rodney joined him in the mess, John already had already started eating. A glance around the mess proved that it hadn't escaped the Christmas touch either. John pulled a tiny twig of _was that a pine needle?_ from his eggs. Yeech. 

"Ho ho ho." Rodney slid his tray onto the table and sat down. "Stick with the muffins." He pointed first to his own before sighing and dropping a second one onto John's tray. He shrugged. "I keep expecting Elizabeth to put her foot down. I don't know why she hasn't."

"She wants lights. Everywhere. Thinks it's good for morale." Gratefully, John bit into a still-warm muffin. "W'sh in this?" he moaned. "It's good."

"Christmas cookie dough," Rodney said between bites. "So far, it's the only good thing that's come out of this delusional, festive-rabid holiday."

"Aw, c'mon, Rodney, that a bit harsh don't you think?" John dropped his paper napkin over his eggs so that he wouldn't have to look at them. "Besides, you just have to hang on another two days and it will all be over."

Rodney narrowed his eyes. "Did you know Elizabeth is making Major Lorne paint a mural of a yule log complete with dancing elves and candy canes? In the jumper bay. Ha! I didn’t think so!"

"You just made that up!" John accused. 

"Maybe. But you're not really sure of that are you?" Rodney smirked. 

John shuddered. No way would he admit it to McKay, but as soon as he finished eating he was heading to the jumper bay to check for himself. 

Groups were getting up and breaking off to go start their shift or help with the holiday planning. A few people were stopping to take advantage of an early morning kiss under the mistletoe. 

Something curled hot and tight in John's chest. He was going to decipher the fucking kissing list and make sure no one got to Rodney before he…before he did. Because he...um...he had a point to make. Right. A point.

John shoved further thought in a box to think about never, and stood up to leave.

"You're leaving?" Rodney asked. "Already?"

"I've got something I need to tend to. You're going straight to the lab 3 from here?"

Rodney nodded. 

Great. The hallway from here to the lab was mistletoe free. Even if Rodney ran into someone on the way, they'd be no excuse for kissing. Just to be sure, he asked, "You kept the mistletoe stuff out of lab 3, right?"

"You know I did. My scientists get distracted enough as it is. It's unsafe as it is but having it around the active experiments is just begging for trouble. I don't care how much Radek begs. It’s not like Elizabeth ever comes down there anyway."

John stared at the printout of Rodney's list. Yeah, there were fewer pages after converting it to text but it was still damn long. 

Rodney had close to 150 people on his list. John leaned back in his chair and scratched his chin. Why so many? Rodney had named more than half of the expedition. 

Without discrimination, he'd included blondes, brunettes, and redheads from both the science and military personnel. Men and women. Apparently, anyone with lips and a brain were fair game.  
Even if Rodney puckered up every five minutes between now and Christmas he'd never manage to go through his entire list. 

No, something else was up. Desperation? Frustration? John sat up straight in his chair. Now, that was a thought. If Rodney couldn't get who he wanted, did he plan to settle for who he could get?

It hadn't escaped his attention that his name was the first one on the kiss list. And, yet, Rodney hadn't made any attempt to cajole John anywhere near the mistletoe. 

He pulled his old list from his pocket and looked down at the scratched-out names. Nope, no need to copy Rodney's list now. He had a brand-new plan. Rolling the paper up in a ball, he tossed it in the trash. 

He had one name only on his mind, and no need to write it down.

First order of business. Continue to keep Rodney away from any mistletoe unless John was right there to take advantage of it. Okay, so Rodney had seemed a little gun-shy as far as kissing John went. He might have to work on fixing that. 

First stop, a friendly chat with Zelenka. Lucky for him, Radek was working in a separate lab today. After a quick run by the jumper bay—Rodney was such a lying liar—he swung by to visit Radek.

After double checking that Rodney wasn't around, he casually stepped up to the bench where Radek was working.

"Hey Dr. Z, I need a favor. Any chance you can you adjust a life-signs detector for me?" John, stood with his hands in his pockets trying to make the question seem as innocent as possible. "Assume I need it to detect a specific person. Can you make it do that?"

"Yes, in theory," Radek said. "However, the only one to have success in recalibrating one to detect a specific life-sign is Rodney."

With a wide-eyed a look didn't hold the slightest shred of innocence, Radek added, "Out of necessity to hear him tell it. So that he could keep track of you, Colonel, and bring you home should you get lost again. He went on about it for days."

"I didn't get lost. Just the one time!"

Radek stared him down over the top of his glasses.

"Twice. But that was completely not my fault!"

"As you say. Nevertheless, Rodney watching out for you is a good thing, yes?" He finished by muttering under his breath, "We should all be so lucky to have someone care so much."

John rocked back on his heels. That—wasn't wrong. It burned that Rodney's reason for tracking him beat John's on the altruism scale. Rodney wanted to save him while he… he just wanted to…to stop Rodney from kissing anyone but him. Oh crap. 

"Um, I should probably go wrap presents or something," John blurted. _And find a place to hide until his face didn’t feel like it was on fire._

"Oh? I heard you weren't doing presents. Just passing out gift cards," Radek teased.

"That counts! I'll have you know finding the right-sized envelopes takes work. Those things are hard to come by and licking them all is a bitch. You ever get a papercut on your tongue? Not fun."

"Ah, it's very sacrificial of you, Colonel. And tell me, where exactly is the Home Depot in Pegasus located?" Radek pushed his glasses up higher on his nose, barely managing to keep a straight face.

"I heard that McKay just handed his list to Teyla for her to fill," John countered. 

"And you wish you had thought of it first?"

Hell, yes. But he wasn't about to admit that to Radek. "So, can you help me or not?"

"Sorry, no. I have yet to figure out how Rodney accomplished this task. If there is nothing else, I must get back to work now."

John left the lab refusing to be discouraged. There had to be a way to track Rodney's motions. Or— He could just stick by Rodney's side. 

The more he thought about it, the better it sounded. 

With a little judicious planning, he caught up to Rodney just as he was leaving the lab. Falling into step beside him, John kept one eye peeled for kiss-hogging interlopers. They almost made it back to the residential area when trouble in the form of a curvy blonde raised its ugly head. 

Dr. Louise Armhammer was standing decoratively under a large sprig of Pegasus mistletoe.  
John immediately laid his hand on Rodney's shoulder and gave it a possessive squeeze. "Dr. Armhammer."

"Colonel Sheppard," Louise answered back with a smile and a flutter of eyelashes. 

Rodney didn’t look inclined to say anything, but since he wasn’t leaping forward to mack on Armhammer, John counted it as a win. Happily, it took no effort at all to steer Rodney away from danger and towards back towards the gate room. 

"Didn't you want to? I mean, obviously she was waiting for—" Rodney began. 

"Stuff to do. Both of us. No dallying. Should you really be cavorting with your staff if you haven’t even figured out how to charge a ZPM yet?"

"Uh. I don't think I'm the one she—"

Rats, the gate room was a bad idea. Mistletoe hung everywhere. The mess hall was only marginally better. John’s choices were limited. Determinedly, he steered Rodney towards his quarters. Less than twenty-four hours and he'd be in the clear. The Christmas celebrating would be over and the damned mistletoe would come down.

"There's a big holiday party in the mess hall later. Cookies and everything. C'mon, McKay, we still have time to fit in a movie first and I know how much you love Die Hard."

"Let me get this straight," Rodney weakly protested. "No holiday cavorting but cookies are fine."

"Yep."

"Okay. But there needs to be popcorn and you agree to fast forward through the part where McClane walks on broken glass. I had nightmares for a week." 

Cool. That went better than John expected. "Agreed."

Relieved, and keeping his eyes out for mistletoe and kissing bandits, John kept one hand on Rodney's back, escorting him down the long hallway. 

Rodney's arm brushed against his side, warm and casual. How long had they been doing this? A hand on the shoulder or back? The physical space between them so small that they frequently brushed against each other, whether it was off-world, walking down a hallway or sitting next to each other in a meeting. 

Heat rose on the back of John's neck all over again. He took a slow, deep breath. How long exactly had he been fondling McKay and never realized it? For that matter, how long had McKay been so handsy with him? Months? Years? How were they both such idiots?

He shoved that thought aside for now. Popcorn and a nice, safe movie lie ahead. Thinking? Maybe later. Or not.

Rodney cued up the movie while John made the popcorn. It wasn't until he stood there with a full bowl of popcorn in his hands that he realized the flaw in his plan. 

The only place to sit was on the bed next to Rodney. Rodney, who was currently gazing up at him with an innocent expression on his face so false that it put Zelenka to shame. 

Oh, something was definitely up. John sat down and waited to see what happened next. Knowing Rodney it wouldn't take long. 

He still wasn't ready for it and almost choked on his popcorn when Rodney put his hand on John's knee and looked up at John with a challenge in his eyes. 

"You bastard! You knew," John growled, being careful not to jostle Rodney's hand from his knee.

"It's not like it was hard to figure out." Rodney looked positively gleeful.

"You knew we had—had a thing and you didn't think it was important to mention it?" 

"I'll admit, I wasn't completely sure until you turned down Dr. Armhammer. You pulled me away so fast I was beginning to wonder if she had cooties," Rodney chuckled. "John, I am right about that, aren't I? About us?"

John's throat locked up. He finally managed to admit, "I still didn't know. Not then. Not really. But I did notice that you never kissed anyone under the mistletoe, and I knew you had plenty of chances. That's when I realized something was up."

"And now?" Rodney asked, with hopeful grin.

"You're a fucking tease and," John hooked one finger into the vee of Rodney's shirt and reeled him in close. "You don’t get to share your mouth with anyone but me. Understood?"

"You have to say it now when there's not even a leaf of that damn mistletoe in sight? Poor planning, Sheppard."

"Not so much." With a flourish, John pulled out the sprig of mistletoe he'd been carrying ever since Radek tucked it into his pocket. Holding it over Rodney's head, he leaned in kissed him on his smart mouth, effectively shutting him up.

Breaking away to come up for air, Rodney drew a shaky breath. With a sly smile he touched his lips and said, "I only get to kiss your mouth? You make a good point, Sheppard, but your argument bears repeating."

"Oh really. Well," John said, diving in for another kiss, "lucky for you, an objective based approach is something I excel at."

Unsurprisingly, Rodney failed to come up with an argument for that.

~*~


End file.
